


'Morphstuck

by Anonymous



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate, Homestuck
Genre: But not for long bc I'm gonna find a way to kill Bro like I always do, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, John is an obtuse dunderfuck but that's ok because we love him, Trans Dave Strider, Trans Jade Harley, Unrelated Harleyberts, Unrelated Strilondes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 02:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10821588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Your name is John--and that's really all you need to know.





	'Morphstuck

**Author's Note:**

> i'm absolutely certain that this crossover has been done before, but i stone-cold don't give a fuck
> 
> the original animorphs novels look at this and ask, horror evident in their voice, "what are you?"  
> and this fic replies, "i'm you but gayer"
> 
> also, forgive me for the absolute mass of exposition i cram into the signless. i'm going off the original books here, and elfangor infodumps all over the place before he dies so that's my excuse

Your name is John [REDACTED]. It’s probably dangerous to print your name in full, perhaps even downright stupid, but you figure you should include all the details you can remember in this record. After all, you’re writing this thing to warn people, right? You have to tell everyone the ‘truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,’ to quote at least a few movies you could name. You used to like movies. You mean, you still do, but you used to actually have time to watch the damn things. Now you’re too busy fighting aliens and saving the world and stuff.

You guess if it’s a problem, Rose can just edit out your name later. Although she and Dave call each other by their last names in like every conversation, so it might be a little tricky to read after she’s gone through with a black marker or whatever it is she’ll use! You’re sure she’ll manage. (Go you, Rose! Sorry that my hand writing is so shitty.)

For some reason, you get the feeling that you should use these intro paragraphs to dump a load of exposition on your readers. Really just punch them straight in the fucking face with a neat selection of information they’re gonna end up having to read over and over again from the books your friends are writing. Maybe you’ll start off every book you write this way, and then paraphrase all through the story so the audience really gets all this super important knowledge drilled into their skulls. This feeling strikes you as terrible! Stupid, stupid, dumb! What an awful idea. What sort of demographic would you even be aiming at, then? A bunch of literal babies? Probably. Ha ha, it’s almost as if the narrative format you’re following parodies a book series aimed at preteens and published during a time where the most profit was to be found in making each of the books accessible as stand-alone stories on the off-chance that readers might not be able to find the preceding novels. But that would be silly. Because everything you’re saying here is totally true and real and actually happened. Like, for realsies.

So. From the beginning, then?  


 

“Hey so I know we had this conversation like three hours ago, but do you really think Doc polishes his own head?” Dave asks.

You almost stumble, one of his weird comments finally taking you by surprise. “Dave, what? Why would you even bring that up now?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I mean, he’s gotta, right? Dude probably can’t go outside for fear of blinding airplane pilots with the beam that shines off that old chrome dome.”

You snort. “Dude, seriously?”

“Deadass serious. I’ve never seen such a shiny bald head in my life. Even the giant wizard statue in Rose’s house can’t hold a candle to Doc, and his hairless bronze scalp stares me down every time I go over for dinner.” Dave takes one hand from his pockets to embellish yet another of his weird tangents with rapid gestures. He moves kind of strangely sometimes, jerky and tense and yet somehow loose in all the wrong places. Sort of like a skittish bird, or a poorly-controlled puppet. It’s not necessarily bad or anything, just one of those things. You actually never noticed until you read a paragraph of one of Rose’s journals. Admittedly, that was before she realised you were looking over her shoulder and slammed it shut.

“I mean, maybe,” you say. “My dad does.”

“Yeah,” says Dave, “ but your dad’s got a weird thing for hair. Didn’t he get kicked outta Cirque du Soleil for tryina shave one of the hairy guys?”

“Bluh, don’t remind me.”

“At least your dad covers that shit up with a hat. I wish Doc would do that.”

“Hah, yeah.”

“Really though, I’ve seen bowling balls more matte than that guy’s head.”

“Oh my god, ok. Can we stop talking about him now?”

“Shiny like a damn cueball.”

“Dude.”

“Like a fucking ostrich egg.”

“Dave!” Your laughter carries through the empty shell of the half-built building you’re cutting through and echoes back in rounds until the sound ends up distorted and warbled, like a little kid’s giggle bouncing at you in the dark. It creeps you out more than you’d like to admit. Which is probably why Dave’s rambling; he gets more freaked out by scary stuff than you do, and every one of his nerves seem to go directly to his mouth. It’s kind of hilarious. “So anyway, are you staying again tonight? If you are, my dad might start charging you rent.” You laugh, and Dave makes a half-hearted huffing noise.

“Yeah, uh, probably not. Bro wants me home tonight. I got like, chores and shit to do I guess.”

“Oh, ok.” You shrug. Since he isn’t coming over, you’ll be able to catch up on the couple episodes of _Bigfoot Hunters_ you missed.

“Yeah.” He hesitates, before adding, “Unrelated note, but I might not be at school tomorrow. D’ya think you could you get the bio homework from Miss for me?”

“Wait, why not? Isn’t Doctor Scratch on your ass about attendance?” you ask. Dave skips school a _lot_.

“Yeah, but it’s a family thing. You probably wouldn’t get it. And who really give a shit about attendance? Don’t worry about it, my Bro can deal with Doc if he tries to talk to me again.”

“Haha, yeah, more likely you’ll end up cleaning the streets with his weird Girl Scouts group for the second time in two weeks.”

“Hey, the Girl Scouts are fucking great. I won’t have you slandering their name in my presence, John.” He kicks away a piece of rubble, his beaten red Converse almost flying off his foot on the way. “Doc’s weird after-school cult is more like the Boy Scouts.”

“Wait, what? Did someone mis… miss, uh--”

“Misgender, John, you can say the word. And nah, no one did. They’re all just lame as hell. Just like the B.S.” One time, Dave tried to join the Boy Scouts with you. He said it would’ve been “ironic as fuck, like god-tier levels of irony,” to join, but he got turned away because legally, he was still written down as a girl. You quit pretty soon after that. That was a few years ago now, though. “And what’s with the name? It’s not like they only meet at night, anyway. Buncha fake fuckin’ goths tryina cash in on that Hot Topic vibe because that’s what the kids like these days, right?”

“I don’t know, Dave, I think the Midnight Crew is a pretty cool name.”

He snorts. “Yeah, you would. Actually did you hear that rumour that the original name was gonna be some weird shit like, aw fuck what was it… like, fuckin’ ‘The Family’, or the fuckin’ uhh, ‘The Sharing’, or some shit like that?”

“Jesus. That DOES sound like a cult.”

Dave laughs. “Hey, wait, isn’t your sister in that thing?”

“Yeah, Jane’s been a member for few weeks now.”

“And you don’t mind ragging on it? C’mon bro, where’s your rampant familial guilt? Figured you’d be on the ground convulsing in throes of self-deprecation right about now for making fun of something she’s into.”

“Haha, shut up dude,” you say, jostling him with your shoulder. “No, it’s fine. Roxy got her into it. Jane doesn’t take it too seriously, but apparently Roxy does. She keeps saying I should join too.”

“Shit, Rose’s sister is in the Midnight Crew?”

“Yeah. She’s been doing it for a few months I think.”

“Huh. So are you gonna join then? What sorta stuff do they actually do there, y’know, besides pick up other people’s trash off the sidewalk or whatever.”

“Apparently they do a lot of stuff! Like, they’ll have bonfires down at the beach, and things like that. They have big communal movie nights and a couple times Jane and Roxy have gone away on hiking trips or on boat rides up the coast.”

“Oh shit. With a spread like that I’m surprised they haven’t snagged two [REDACTED].”

“Heh, yeah. I don’t know, it’s not really my thing. I’m pretty sure Jane is going just to make Roxy happy. Besides,” you say, flashing him a grin and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “I’d rather watch a movie with you and Jade and Rose than with a big group of strangers, any day.”

“Aw, I love you too John.” Dave says, his usually flat voice lilting with the sarcastic note he busts out whenever he says silly bullshit like that.

“And what might two young lovebirds be doing out here alone, so late at night?” a voice calls from the shadows, and you just about shit your damn pants. Dave jerks so hard your arm goes flying from his shoulders, and his body folds and tenses in a way that might, if you were as poetic as Rose, make you think about switchblades and butterfly knives. He’s stockstill, the light from the streetlamp across the construction site cutting sharp shadows in him so he looks like a minimalist karate advertisement, until the Devil herself steps from behind a dark concrete pillar. Dave slumps, his shitty posture returning immediately.

“Rose, what the fuck!” he says, loudly. You wouldn’t call it shouting, though. Dave doesn’t really shout. His inside voice is a mumble. You don’t think Dave’s ever been shushed by a librarian in his life.

“Hey Dave!” comes another voice, deeper and somehow lighter than Rose’s, and shot through with brilliant laughter. Your other friend, Jade, skips around the other side of the pillar and exchanges a grin with her cohort. She then tries to exchange a high-five, and Rose stares with disdain and sighs at the hand that hovers in front of her before giving in and tapping it with her own.

“Oh, hey Jade!” you exclaim. Jade’s probably your oldest friend-- she was the one who introduced you to Dave and Rose, and you’ll always be grateful to her for that. She’s also the only one in your group to be as tall as you are; the other two are freaking tiny. Dave and Rose are sort of delicate looking, like those weird leggy insects with the Kung Fu arms. Oh, right: praying mantis...es? Praying mantii? Who knows. Anyway, Rose and Dave are weirdly similar in a lot of ways. Both short and thin, both covered in freckles. Rose is pretty pale compared to Dave, who’s a few shades lighter than you and Jade, but they look really alike with the same shaped face and eyes. They both bleach their hair too, so often you pretty much never get to see their normal colour past Dave’s goldish blonde and Rose’s kind of peachy tone. Rose is, according to the DNA test she took a few years back, mostly Japanese and Latino, so you guess Dave could be too, even though they’ve both sworn up and down that they aren’t related. Rose actually took the test to confirm that her _mom_ was biologically related to her. Kind of messed up, but that’s just Rose for you. She has a funny relationship with her mom, but you’re sure they love each other.

You and Jade are nearly their polar opposites. Like you said, you’re both tall. Both dark-skinned, broad-shouldered, and “built like brick shithouses” to borrow a quote from Dave. Though really, it’s Jade that’s the shithouse. You’re just kind of chubby. Jade’s Polynesian, but she’s never specified exactly which Polynesian island she comes from. She moved here with her Grandpa when she was just a toddler, so maybe she can’t remember. She definitely takes after him-- he’s taller than you by half a foot, with wavy grey hair and a booming voice that apparently runs in the family.

You get your dark skin from your dad, but you must’ve got your build and eye colour from your anonymous mom-- his eyes are deep brown, while yours are blue. He doesn’t talk about her, though, whoever she was. You’ve never seen the point in prying. He’ll probably tell you when you’re older anyway, once he’s finished mourning his own mom who passed away a few years ago. Your nana was visiting a factory that your family used to own, before it was struck by a meteor, completely out of the blue. Her body wasn’t found in the wreckage of the building, so your dad didn’t even have anything to bury. He keeps an empty urn above the fireplace in her memory.

It’s kind of a painful topic in your house.

But that aside, you’re surprised to see Rose and Jade out here. Who meets up with their friends in an abandoned construction site?

“What’re you two doing here?” Dave asks, beating you to the punch. “I thought graveyards and those Pagan crystal stores were more your usual haunts.”

“You know, I distinctly recall asking you first,” says Rose.

Dave whistles. “Oh shit, nice comeback. You really got us in a fucking chokehold with that one, [REDACTED].”

“We’re heading home from the mall,” you say, sharing a fond eye-roll with Jade at Rose and Dave. They’re always like this.

“What a coincidence,” starts Rose, but Jade interrupts.

“We were at the mall too, until we saw you guys walk in here. We thought it’d be funny to follow you!”

“Oh yeah. It was totally hilarious. Think John nearly pissed himself with how hard he was laughing,” says Dave, voice flat.

“Hey! Shut up,” you say, grinning. You try to poke him in the ribs, but he side-steps your hand.

“Anyway, are y’all headed home? I sorta gotta be back pretty soon,” Dave continues, drumming against his jeans with one hand. That’s another thing about Dave. He never stops moving. Constantly fidgeting and swaying, moving his head like he’s listening to music even when he isn’t. Like there’s some rhythm he can hear that no one else can. Or maybe it’s just what happens when you live off apple-flavoured energy drinks.

“Another scheduled strifing session with your brother?” asks Rose, watching Dave intently. He looks at the ground, scuffing a shoe against the concrete and shoving both hands back into his pockets. At least, you think he’s looking at the ground. A few years back, you bought him a pair of aviator shades for his birthday-- authentic movie props that Ben Stiller wore once. Dave hasn’t taken them off since. Not even now, when it’s so dark out even you can see barely anything. You have no idea how he hasn’t bumped into anything yet.

“Yeah I guess,” says Dave. “It’s been a while so, probs.”

“I see,” she murmurs, before turning on her heel and walking away in the direction you and Dave were headed earlier. Dave and Jade fall into step with her immediately, and you walk beside him again. You meet Jade’s eyes over their heads and smile.

The four of you make conversation until the shell of the unbuilt parking complex falls behind you, and you walk as a group across the empty site. Here, rusted piles of metal and crumbling concrete pipes litter the landscape. A rusted crane reaches up over the entire thing like a skeletal hand trying to touch the sky, and underfoot it’s rocky and uneven, with shallow pools of dirty water splaying oil-slick rainbows over the surface. It’s actually kind of dangerous. Really, you guys shouldn’t even be walking here. Especially at night. But, as Dave said to you earlier when you were leaving the mall, it is a pretty good shortcut. You just… won’t tell your dad.

You think Jade’s trying to ask Dave something, but you aren’t paying attention. You’re star-gazing, as you sometimes do when it’s a clear night. In fact, you and Jane used to climb out onto your roof and watch the stars after your dad went to bed sometimes. You did it pretty often after your Nana died, but Jane hasn’t joined you for a few months, so recently you’ve found yourself lying alone under the starry sky. It’s nice up there. Sometimes you joke with your friends that you’re watching for aliens. You aren’t, not really-- while you are sort of interested in that kind of thing, you’re pretty sure there are more qualified people in the world to be watching for alien spaceships than a teenage boy on his roof with a pair of binoculars. Like the people on the Discovery Channel, or the ones who run those forums you sometimes read.

So nah, you aren’t looking for aliens. You aren’t looking for anything, really. You’re just… watching. You guess. Thing is, no one noticed the meteor that killed your Nana. Somehow, with all their satellites and telescopes and monitoring, no one saw it until it was too late. No one knew it was coming until it had already hit. That day was the first time you ever saw your dad, and your sister, cry.

Sometimes you can’t sleep without watching the sky.

So you’re the first one to notice the brilliant, blue-white flare arching across the horizon towards you.

“Holy shit!” Jade is the second person.

“What?” Dave asks, looking between you and Jade.

Rose has already caught on. “Dave, for once in your life, take off those fucking shades and _look_.” Her voice is harsh and intrigued, and even he takes her seriously, lowering his glasses and looking to where Jade’s pointing up at the thing.

“It’s… it’s a flying saucer,” whispers Jade.

“No,” you say, “not a saucer. Look at it.” This thing doesn’t look like any UFO you’ve ever seen. It isn’t cigar-shaped, or saucer-shaped, or triangular. It doesn’t have weird flashing lights like a lot of UFO sightings report. It isn’t very big, either, maybe the size of a small bus. At a distance, it looks streamlined, a black beast of sharp angles and harsh lines. As it gets closer, you realise those angles and lines are thick armour plating. It is vaguely triangular actually, shaped like a fighter jet, except bigger and bulkier. It sort of reminds you of the shell of a crab. The back of it flares up and out, three sharp points like claws or horns tearing through the air.

Tearing through the air towards you.

“GET DOWN!” one of you yells-- it could be you, you don’t know. In the next few seconds you lose all sense of self. The deafening roar of the UFO makes the very ground shake beneath your feet, and you can feel your teeth vibrate in your skull. The entire construction site goes haywire-- piles of dirt are blown asunder, concrete tubes roll from their places and shatter on metal, and the crane creaks and groans as something falls and hits its base. You can feel someone’s hand hard on your shoulder, fingers digging in, as you’re dragged to the ground where your friends crouch.

It misses you by inches. Flying directly overhead, you could have reached up and touched its underside. You’d have lost a few fingers, sure, but you could’ve done it. The sheer force of it passing above makes your bones reverberate, makes the frames of your glasses rattle. You have to squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath in the cloud of dust that follows, washing over you like a localised sandstorm and filling your clothes and hair with grit.

There are a few moments of comparable silence, when things stop moving and you can open your eyes and breathe again. Then the moment ends when the spaceship explodes behind you. You stand and turn, staring with wide, blurry eyes, and realise that what you thought was an explosion was the sound of the ship hitting solid earth. The metal, or whatever it’s made of, screams as it encounters concrete and scrapes over it painfully, leaving deep furrows in the ground. The ship eventually stops, having somehow turned around to face you.

Then everything goes quiet.

Until, “Oh my god. Oh my god!” That was Jade.

“Holy… holy fucking shit, holy fuck, fuckin’ shit, what? What??” Dave says, his voice high and strained and panicked.

Rose seems speechless, forming half-words and sounds before they die in her throat and she falls silent. Your jaw works for a few seconds, trying to get rid of the weird tingling feeling the vibrations left behind in your teeth. You go to say something, but something happens that interrupts you.

A door in the ship falls open.

Something falls out.

No, no. Not something. _Someone_. The… person stands up, and for a moment you think they’re human. Jade’s up immediately, running for the ship, and you go after her. If it’s a pilot, they could be hurt! You might need to call-- but, no. When you get closer, you realise only the silhouette seems even vaguely human. The grey skin, the red horns, the claw-tipped fingers. The sight of these stops you. Jade’s still moving closer, so you sprint forwards and grab at her arm, jerking her to a standstill. In the back of your mind you realise that Rose and Dave have caught up, flanking you and Jade. But most of you focuses on the person.

The alien.

“What the fuck is that?” Dave whispers.

You have no idea. No alien-spotters website or newspaper prepared you for this. The thing standing before you is no spindly, green-skinned, big-eyed Dover Demon-looking creature. Like you said, the silhouette is almost human. It’s got two legs, two arms, a head. But it’s _tall_ . Tall as _fuck_. Easily eight feet, maybe nine. It’s got light grey skin, segmented and plated like the armour on its ship except subtle. Like the interlocking plates of some sort of insect, raised in formations under its skin. Two pointed ears rise from under wild black hair, messy and wavy, almost like your own. The thought almost makes you want to laugh. Also rising from under the hair are two horns, large but nubby. The colouring makes you think of candy corn, but in the wrong order, with dark red at the base and lightening through orange to yellow at the tips. Its face is sort of human-- it has two eyes, a nose, a mouth. The difference is found inside; the eyes are yellow where they should be white, with bright red irises. The mouth, behind near-black lips, is filled with sharp teeth. It’s wearing surprisingly normal clothes; tight black shirt and torn, faded beige cloak over black leggings with what look to be red stripes along the sides. No shoes. Instead you can see that its exoskeletal plates also extend down over strangely paw-like feet. Bright yellow talons curl from the toes and tip the ends of its fingers. Those things look lethal.

You’d probably be scared if the alien wasn’t covered in what looks like its own blood. It coughs, chokes, and more of its blood paints the front of its shirt and the ground in front of its feet. It falls to one knee, grey skin and thick lacerations showing through the ripped fabric, and watches the four of you with sad, desperate eyes.

It’s dying.

Somehow, you can feel it dying. There are wide claw marks across its chest, its throat. More blood is joining what it coughed up on the ground. It closes one eye as blood drips down from somewhere under its hair, and reaches up weakly to wipe it away. And somehow, even without that sight, you’d be able to sense its life draining. You wonder if the others can feel it too, but you can’t look away. There’s something about this person that makes you… wait, person?

<Humans,> a voice says, directly into your head. You jump, and so do the others. They must hear it too. <No… children. You are only children.>

The first person to move closer is a surprise. Rose walks past you, brushes off Jade’s hand as she reaches out for her. So she follows, and Dave follows, and you follow.

“Is that you?” Rose asks. “The voice in my head? In…” she looks around at all of you, “all of our heads?”

<Yes. Thought-speech is an ability gifted to me sweeps ago, by a dear friend.> The alien’s voice in your mind is strained, but not just by physical pain. You wonder who his friend was. (His... theirs? Its? Do aliens have gender?) <I can speak like you, aloud, but my body is collapsing around me. Physical speech would only hasten my death. And we are running out of time,> the alien says, somehow, without opening their mouth. You go with ‘theirs’ for now, because you can just feel Rose rolling her eyes at you.

“We?” asks Rose, her voice shaking but driven as ever.

<Yes. I am sorry. I do not want to make soldiers out of children. But there is no choice. I…> their face scrunches up in pain, teeth bared and showing off the bloodied gaps where some are missing. Now that you’re closer, you can see deep scars, some raised and pink, others shiny and grey, littering their body. The pain seems to dull after a moment, and they start again. <I am going to explain, now, about the war. About myself. About the beings that threaten your planet, and your lives. I do this in the hope that you can shoulder the burden I, and my kind, have carried for sweeps. What I am about to do is unforgivable. But I will not live long enough to apologise. So, human children, listen to me.>

<I am a Troll from the planet Alternia. It is a planet so very, very far from here that even if I survived this battle, I would not live to see it again. My species… it knows war. We have fought against many species, against ourselves, against each other. The war I fight today concerns the entire universe. It is the fight against the Cherubs.> ‘ _The Cherubs_ ’. The way the Troll says their name is hate-filled and vitriolic. You get the feeling they’re not talking about baby-faced angels with bows and arrows. Somehow their anger is contagious; you can feel it rising in your blood and, looking around, it seems like everyone else can too. <They are a parasitic species. They can take the form of a green snake and crawl into a host through any opening that leads to the brain-- and then take root there. They control their host completely once this process is complete. If the host is sentient, they are trapped in their own mind, helpless. Their body is controlled by the Cherub like a puppet. Their thoughts, memories, knowledge, all are open to the snake. They take over entire worlds this way, entire species. Once all the worlds in a solar system fall to them, they feed on its sun until it dies. Whole galaxies have gone cold in their wake.>

“And the Cherubs are here, on Earth?” Rose asks, already jumping to a conclusion you’d been struggling to guess at.

The Troll meets Rose’s eyes, for a second, and she freezes. <Yes.>

“Th-this is… this is fucking insane,” says Dave. Then, “Go on.”

<The Cherubs… one of their highest Generals, war commanders, is here on your planet. His name is Caliborn the Third. He controls-> the Troll cries out in pain, aloud, and almost collapses. You can’t stop Jade when she runs to them.

“Is there anything we can do? To help you?” she demands, voice equal parts authority and desperation. Jade can’t stand seeing anyone hurt. Not human, not animal… and, you guess, not alien either.

<Me? No. These wounds are fatal,> they say, eyes meeting hers as she braces an arm against their shoulders and holds them up. <But you can do something… to help your world.>

“What?” Jade asks.

<In my ship. There is… a cube. Bring it out.> There’s a certain gravity to the way they say this; a certain magnetic pull in their voice you don’t see any point in resisting.

“I’ll go,” you say, already heading up the ramp. Only once inside do you realise you’re tracking bloody footprints through the Troll’s ship. Oops. The interior looks pretty much exactly how you would have expected. It’s mostly rough edges and cold, hard metal, with a colour palette that goes all the way from grey to black, with some dark red to really spice things up. You look closer, and splattered on the walls and across the floor is what seems to be dried, peeling paint in every shade of the rainbow. Puddles of the Troll’s blood are a bright red addition to the interior decor. Everything in here looks old and worn, the metal dented and nicked. There are claw marks embedded deep in the walls and floor, burn marks on the ceiling. You’re pretty sure those are teeth marks in something that looks sort of like a joystick on a control panel.

But you’re not here to look at alien joysticks.

“What does the cube look like?” you call through the door. Your voice echoes in the hollow of the ship.

<It looks perfectly generic.>

“Well,” you hear Dave say, “damn if that wasn’t a question that just got answered.”

<It’s hidden in a secret compartment under the console. I’ll open it for you.>

You hear something hissing, like pressure being released, and watch as a small door opens out on an invisible hinge. Inside is a… well, a perfectly generic object. Which is, apparently, an average-size green cube with rounded edges. It’s floating in the compartment, and every few seconds it sends out yellow sparks. You can only assume it’s safe to touch.

You carry the cube out to your friends, accidentally walking straight through the blood puddle around the Troll’s feet again.

<Give the cube to me, human.>

“My name’s John,” you say, as they reach a hand out to you. That’s what people do in movies when they meet aliens, isn’t it? Introduce themselves?

The Troll seems to smile. <I am known to my people as the Signless. I was known, by those closest to me, as Kankri. Hello, John. Give me your hand, if you will.>

You don’t see any reason not to. So you do. Kankri presses your hand up against the cube, and gestures for everyone else to do the same. The feeling that passes over you in that moment had been the strangest thing you’d ever encountered up to that point.

By the time you’re writing this, you’ve definitely felt stranger.

Heat pulses out from where you touch the cube. Heat, then cold, then a wave of numbness followed by pins and needles. Nothing painful, not really. Your mind goes blank and calm. You feel a sudden emptiness grow on the fringe of your consciousness, like a door opening up; one that had never been there before.

Then Kankri’s grip on the cube falters. Dave catches it before it hits the ground. You look at Kankri-- they’re still alive, but barely. You reach out and help Jade hold them up.

<You, other human- >

“Dave,” Dave supplies.

<Dave. Return the cube to the compartment. It will be destroyed, along with my ship, so that it cannot fall into the wrong hands.>

“What’s going to destroy it?” asks Jade.

Kankri smiles. <Me.>

“Explain what the cube did to us,” Rose demands. Politely.

<I have given you the only gift I have left to give. It is a burden; something known to you humans as a blessing and a curse. The ability to morph.>

“Morph?” Dave asks, as he slips back through the door, cube no longer in his hands.

<There isn’t time,> Kankri says. They look over your shoulder, and you can see something glinting in their eyes. You follow their gaze and see the lights in the sky. <He is coming. Caliborn the Third.> They reach and clutch at you again, claws digging in and grip stronger than you would’ve thought possible. <Listen to me. The ability I have given allows you to turn into any creature you touch. You can remain in their form for two hours - go over that limit, and you are stuck in that morph forever. Many Trolls have this ability, myself included. No other species does, but I have given it to you, now, to help you fight this war. It is an ability that requires concentration, determination. There are limitations and dangers, but… there is no time. The Cherubs have taken hundreds, thousands of human hosts across your world. It is nearly impossible to tell Controller from human. But they have a weakness.> Their eyes are wild and angry, and you think you’re bleeding where their claws dig into your flesh. <Every three days they must leave their host to take their adult forms. Their adult bodies are dangerous and strong, but difficult to maintain under the force of gravity, especially on your planet. In this form they must feed on the energy of dying stars to survive. If they are cut off from this energy, they will die and the host will be free. You must do what you can to stop the Cherubs. Do not let them take over your planet. Reinforcements, other Trolls, will arrive to help-- but I don’t know how long you will have to fight alone. It could take sweeps for them to get here. I am the last Troll I know to be fighting the Cherubs on your planet. Now, you will need to take my place.>

“What do we do?” you ask them.

<Kill Caliborn. Stop him. Stop his soldiers, end his following. Do what you can to stop the invasion. I know this will be difficult. I know it may be impossible. You are the only hope your species has left until more of my people arrive.>

“We… can’t we tell, like, the government? The army?” you ask, and Jade nods her agreement.

<No! Listen to me. The Cherubs have taken hosts among your government, and your army. Go to them, attempt to inform others of the war, and you will be silenced. Your people and your planet will be lost.> Their eyes widen suddenly over your shoulder, and the pupils constrict sideways like a cat’s. <You need to leave.>

“But--” says Jade.

<NOW!> Kankri roars in your heads, and you react without thinking, like the Troll’s voice took hold of your spine and jerked it sideways. They somehow have this effect, this aura. Before, it was sad and serene. Now it’s angry. Angry and afraid. You and Jade sprint away like wild animals. You’re nearly at the treeline when you realise that Dave and Rose aren’t with you. You turn, and Rose is standing in front of Kankri. She looks like she’s arguing with Dave, as he grips her arm tightly and tries to pull her away. They both fall silent for a second, and you can hear Kankri talking to them, but you can’t focus on the words. You’re a little too distracted by the sight of three large spaceships hurtling towards you.

“John,” says Jade, and her voice is broken and cracked like you’ve never heard it. You look at her, and see the ships reflected in her glasses. Behind them, however, her face is tracked with tears. You only realise now that you’re holding hands, and that her nails are digging into you. Like Kankri’s did before. Something wet drips onto your arm, and you notice for the first time that you’re crying too.

You don’t know why.

“DAVE! ROSE!” she screams, but they’re still listening to the alien.

“THEY’RE COMING,” you yell, “GET OUT OF THERE!”

Dave and Rose start arguing again, but Dave’s making progress, dragging Rose away. But the ships are too close, too fast. It’s too late.

So Dave drags Rose under Kankri’s ship. You can see them from here, stuffed in the small space between the concrete and the ship’s underside, beneath the ramp that extended from the door. Jade’s frozen. So are you. Dave is holding Rose down. You think they’re both crying, but from here you can’t be sure.

<You cannot fight them here,> Kankri says, broadcasting to all of you. <You need to run and hide. I know, Rose, that this is not your instinct. Nor is it yours, Dave. But this is a battle you cannot win. Please.> Rose stops struggling against Dave. <Caliborn is coming here to kill me. John, Jade. You need to go. If Caliborn or his soldiers see you, you will die. They will not expect humans to have morphing abilities, but this will not save you now. Stay silent, stay hidden.> They go quiet. You’re pretty sure they’re talking to Rose and Dave now, somehow not sending their thoughts to you and Jade.

“What do we do?” Jade mouths, voice barely above a whisper. She’s shaking. Wait, no. You’re shaking. Why are you shaking?

“I don’t know.” Dave waves at you, motioning for you to run. Rose is facing the Troll, like she can see them through the ramp. You can’t leave yet. You can’t leave your friends behind. “We have to stay here until Rose and Dave can get away,” you decide. Jade nods. Her hand tightens around yours. She moves further back into the trees and you go with her as the ships pull in over the construction site and start to set down. She drags you down onto the ground, the grass and bushes giving you some cover from the scene in front of you.

The ships land.

The middle one, the biggest, is a bright, toxic red. It’s sharp. That’s really the first thing you notice when you look at it. It’s big and red and sharp and shaped like the pointy end of a giant trident. The other two are like miniature versions, and they land either side of the big one. Whoever these Cherubs are, they _really_ like ugly spaceship designs. A huge, ludicrously massive door opens in the front of the middle prong, and a ramp extends. Then something walks out.

<I forgot to mention,> says Kankri, voice weak but acidic with anger, <Caliborn’s host is a member of my own species. Her Imperious Condescension.> You’re filled with Kankri’s own disgust at the sight of her silhouette in the doorway.

She’s terrifying.

And also, really, really awesome looking.

She’s impossibly tall. From here, it’s difficult to estimate, but you’d say around fifteen feet. Maybe more. Probably more. Yeah. _That_ impossibly tall. She does look like Kankri, but only barely. Enough that you’d be able to guess that they’re the same species, but different enough to make your guess uncertain. Black hair, black clothes. Grey skin, yellow eyes. You can’t tell what colour her pupils are from here, but her horns are the same red to orange to yellow gradient as Kankri’s. That’s about where the similarities end. Her hair is a glistening charcoal mass, as tall as she is and twice as wide. It curls around and clumps together like tentacles, ignoring the pull of gravity and winding in the air behind her-- but there’s no wind. Your tentacle comparison turns out to be more accurate than you expected. In front of her, uh, ‘hair’, there are two massive fins where ears should be, and bright pink filaments fanning out under them like fish gills. Her clothes are skin-tight like Kankri’s leggings, and pink stripes run up her sides and meet across her chest in a single line. Her eyes are wide, and nearly too big for her face, with a pair of horn-rimmed glasses perched in front of them on her strange snub of a nose. It looks sort of like a cross between a normal human nose and Voldemort’s, actually.

Her horns… her horns are fucking huge. They curve up and away from her forehead like backswept elephant tusks. They must be half as tall as she is. Finally, in one hand with nails that must be as long as you are tall, she holds a double-ended golden trident.

Also, did you mention the jewelry? Because she is fucking _dripping_ in it. Gold piercings and jewel-studded earrings adorn her fins. Gold cuffs and bracelets all decorated in pink jewels run up and down her arms, gold chains are braided through her ‘hair’, draped across her chest, around her ankles, and even up her horns. Gold rings nearly cover the entire lengths of her fingers. She’s wearing a crown too, massive and gold-- again. What a surprise! More gold! The gem perched in its centre is emblazoned with some sort of symbol that seems almost familiar to you, for some reason.

Then she opens her mouth and speaks. “Fin-ally, you li’l pain in ma bass. Thought you’d just crawl away an’ die wave-out facin’ ya queen?”

<This is my species’ Empress. She gave herself up as a host to the Cherubs willingly. Caliborn must be letting her speak first. She and I have… history.> Kankri’s voice is getting weaker. He hasn’t got long. <And, yes. She is speaking in fish puns. Ugh.>

“Motha fuckin’ infidel ya are,” she says, pointing her trident at him. “Makin’ trouble and startin’ ship. Fuckin’ up the status quo like it ya bidness ta mess wave ma people. Now look what ya did. Can’t let that ship go unpunished. Is a bad example for mah citizens. Ya listen, mutant?” Then she laughs, hard and harsh, and twirls her trident in one hand. “Don’t matter no more though. Spilled too much a that freak red, ain’t ya? Not got long now. That’s the thing wave low bloods. Weak as FUCK. And ya the lowest a the low. I’m gon’ watch ya die, buoy. Then I’m gonna send ya ugly corpse home and have ‘em hang it somewhere public. Really send a message to ya li’l followers. Now, I know ya ain’t gon’ tell me SHIT, so we’ll find ya girl wave-out ya help. We’ll find her, like we found dat jade-blood what saved ya freak ass. Sold her ta some blue-blood pirate beach. An’ your gold buoy? The mustard-blood? Still ma helmsman. I’d brine ya up ta ma flagship ta see him, but I ain’t want mutant blood on my carp-et.”

Some sort of hair-raising growl breaks out in the night. It sounds like the noise a wolf might make, or a tiger. You realise it’s Kankri. The Empress shrugs.

“Yeah, fought dat’d fuck wave ya. Any-wave, Cherub-buoy wants a word. Sea ya later.” Something happens to the Empress, then. She almost shrugs, rolling her head on her shoulders and blinking slowly. When she opens them, she looks different. She stands differently. The way she glares at Kankri is different.

<Caliborn is taking control,> they explain.

“YOu! SIGNLESS,” Caliborn says, with her mouth. He enunciates differently too. The Empress lets her big lips and teeth get in the way of her speech, almost lazily. Caliborn barks works like commands. In some, his voice dips oddly. “FREAK BOY. I HAVE TOLD YOu BEFORE. YOu CANNOT RuN. YOu CANNOT HIDE. FROM ME. FROM MY ARMY. FROM THE CONDESCENSION. AND NOW. YOu ARE DYING. HA! HA!! HOO HOO! HEE HEE!” He laughs like he doesn’t actually know what laughter is. Like someone’s shown him poorly-drawn diagrams and scribbled notes about it, and the best way he saw to take the knowledge in was to scrunch it all up and eat it. He stares at Kankri for a second, then says, “WHAT? NOW, WHEN FACED WITH YOuR DOOM. NO WORDS? NO SERMONS? DON’T YOu WANT TO. TALK MY EARS OFF? WITH YOuR BULLSHIT FUCK AND LIES? YOuR EQuALITY DRIVEL? YOuR TROLL BLOOD NONSENSE? DO IT. TALK. YOu’RE SO GOOD AT IT YOu ALMOST HAD CONDY. OuT OF A JOB. HA HA! THAT WAS A JOKE. BECAuSE YOUR WORDS ARE STuPID AND THEY SuCK, AND YOuR uPRISING WAS PATHETIC AND SMALL. WE FOuND YOuR HuMAN TROLL ‘MOTHER’. WE WILL FIND YOuR OLIVE BITCH. WE WILL TAKE OVER THIS HuMAN WORLD. YOu CANNOT STOP uS.”

Kankri finally speaks, and you hear his (you guess) voice for the first time. You expect him to say something heroic, or heartfelt, or dramatic. What he says, his voice rough like gravel, is, “Fuck off, Caliborn.”

Caliborn keeps talking as though Kankri hadn’t even opened his mouth. “YOu CANNOT WIN. BECAuSE. YOu ARE DYING. AND BECAuSE.” He pauses. “YOuR TROOPS ARE SWEEPS AWAY. AND WE. ARE ALREADY HERE.”

<Another thing about Caliborn,> says Kankri, <the Condescension has the ability to morph. He, of all the Cherubs, is the only one to have this power. No other Cherub can access it, because Condy here has forbidden any other Troll from taking on a Cherub Controller. Caliborn is one of the most dangerous Cherubs in the universe because of this.>

Caliborn shakes his head, agitated. He can’t seem to hear Kankri unless Kankri actually wants him to, so it must be some internal conflict. “THE CONDESCENSION WANTS THE HONOuR. THE PLEASuRE. OF KILLING YOu. I’LL INDuLGE THE DuMB BI--”

<End that ward and I’ll end your life buoy,> the Condesce warns, somehow broadcasting her thoughts aloud like Kankri.

“AH!” Caliborn shrieks. “FuCK, OK, I MEAN. I’LL ALLOW IT.”

While he was talking, several tall, spiky-looking creatures walked off the two smaller ships. Most are just shorter than Kankri, and differ in colouring, with some being pure white and the others pitch black. All are garbed in bright, outlandish costumes, like the harlequin figurines your dad used to collect. They’re humanoid, with long spindly limbs, and every joint and finger ends in a sharp, thin point. They look like walking knives. They fan out around the back of Kankri’s ship to make a perimeter. Your heart races. Dave and Rose!

<The new beings are Carapacians. They used to be a peaceful species, despite their appearance. Now a Cherub takes up residence in each of their heads. They are prisoners in their own bodies-- do not forget that,> Kankri says.

More, new creatures spill out of the ships. White and animalistic, some resembling normal animals and insects, and others… are just plain weird.

<Those are Lusii,> says Kankri. He seems to be trying to tell you all he can before the end comes. <Natural beasts from my home planet. Young Trolls are each raised by a Lusus-- well, normally.> There’s a suggestion of humour in his tone. <Most of these are Controlled by Cherubs, but some of the more easily commanded ones are simply following the lead of the other Lusii, or of their own wards.>

Conveniently, that’s when the other Trolls appear. In the doorway behind the Condescension, and exiting the other ships, you can see them. None as tall as the Empress, and none as impressive or foreboding. But still, Trolls.

Behind them stand humans. Most are holding guns. These ones must be controlled by Cherubs, too. You squint, and for some reason, one of them seems… familiar.

<As I said before, no other Troll is allowed to share their body with a Cherub Controller. But the Condescension is still… despite my efforts, our Empress. Caliborn’s pride means these ones are safe from ever being Controlled, because he doesn’t want any other Cherub having his claim to fame. After all, Cherubs have been fighting Trolls for sweeps. Long before I was hatched. It was madness that any of us would let one control us of our own volition. But still, we are hatched and raised for violence. We are the perfect soldiers, and the Empress commands us all. Even with a snake in her head,> Kankri says.

It’s a little confusing. If the Empress commands all the Trolls, and a Cherub controls the Empress, then why are there any Trolls left fighting?

Fortunately, Kankri seems to understand. <I wish I had time to explain this properly. Caliborn does love talking, though…> Then aloud he croaks, “So, Caliborn. How’s your sister?”

It seems like he’s interrupted Caliborn halfway through transferring control back to the Condescension. His eyes bulge, and his teeth bare. He starts shrieking again, but no one hears him. Everyone is listening to Kankri instead.

<I lead a rebellion against the Empress. I foretold prophecies of a more peaceful world. She had our people locked in a society where weakness and fear were offenses punishable by death. Mass cullings were carried out on those deemed not strong enough to carry on the species. Trolls were delegated jobs and ranks by blood colour. We were seen as either trash or gods because of our place on the hemospectrum. I saw a better way.>

“-YOu DARE ASK ABOuT HER, YOu FuCKING, FuCKING BITCH. HOW DARE YOu BRING uP MY SISTER WHEN I’M ABOuT TO CuLL YOu FOR BEING-”

<I had a small, devoted following of other Trolls who believed that society could change for the better. Then word spread of Her Imperious Condescension’s acquiescence to the Cherub, Caliborn the Third. After that, I had an _army_. We fought among the stars against those who would rather die than defy her word-- one half of my people, pitted against the other. It… was not what I had intended. I did not want more death. But more death is what came. >

“-ABOuT YOuR GREEN BLOOD MOTHER, HMM? WHAT ABOuT HER?? HOW IS SHE DOING? DO YOu WANT-”

<The Trolls who still served her hunted me. My family and I could not run fast enough, and the Condescension and Caliborn found us. They took my mother, and my dearest friend Mituna. He was enslaved, and now powers the engines and computers on the Condesce’s flagship. My quadrantmate and I escaped from the ship that was intended to take us back to Alternia. We fought the Cherubs, and the Trolls who followed us, until we were separated. I don’t know if she still lives, after all these sweeps. I hope she is still up there, somewhere. But I will never see her again.> You can feel his sadness. The hollow in the space of his chest where his heart should be. <There are many Trolls who still fight the Condesce. They may not follow me, nor believe in my teachings, but they will help when they arrive. Be wary of the Trolls who serve her. They will not hesitate to kill you.>

“A’ight,” says… someone, with the Condesce’s mouth. “Tantrum ova.” You guess it’s her, then. “It’s time, guppy.” She takes another step down the ramp, then another, and another. Kankri stands, with obvious difficulty, on his own two feet, and watches her approach. “Ya caused some mad shit for me. Ya li’l rebellion’s trouble. It’ll end when they see their ill prissy buoy dead and hangin’ by ‘is prongs in hive square.”

“You,” he chokes out, “betrayed us all by letting a snake into your head. There will always be a rebellion, even after my death. While there are still Trolls left to fight, they will.”

“Ya, ok,” she says, and spears him.

The massive trident impales him, the middle prong going through his chest and pinning him to the ramp of his ship. The metal buckles under the gold weapon, and you almost scream. Dave and Rose are still under there. Jade leaps forward and nearly breaks the treeline heading for them. The sound of her crashing through brambles attracts the attention of a few nearby Lusii and a Carapacian.

“NO!” Kankri roars aloud, and Jade stops, a bundle of coiled muscles and shaking limbs on the edge of the site. Then, in thought-speak, <Your friends... are safe. I sw-swear this to y-you.> His head lolls to the side, as if rolling naturally, but you see his eyes sweep the trees where you’re hidden. He struggles for a moment, with something in his hand. He raises it for all to see, and the Condesce’s eyes widen. <Go.>

Kankri’s ship explodes.

You have no choice. The blast sends several Controllers flying, but one of the Lusii who noticed Jade’s outbreak is loping across the site towards you. It looks like a giant polar bear, but it has six massive eyes where there should be two. A second alien, one of the Carapacians, follows it. You need to leave. Now.

“Jade,” you hiss, your feet already moving you away through the trees. She stands, frozen, and watches as her death gets closer with every second she wastes. Shit! “Jade!” you say, but you don’t have the the patience to wait for her to snap out of it, so you grab her arm and jerk her after you as you run.

“Dave and Rose,” she says, her voice thick and shaking.

“Kankri said they were alright,” you reply. Your mind is strangely empty. Not foggy, just blank. There’s a shadow where fear should be, an intangible cloud. You’re doing the mental equivalent of holding an umbrella over your head beneath it.

You keep running.

It’s dark under the trees. Dead leaves and branches are crushed under your shoes. You and Jade are making an awful lot of noise, but you’re beyond subtlety now. The aliens are chasing after you. Aliens, and now, humans. Or Trolls? You can hear people shouting.

“There! Over there! Two of them!”

“Permission to fire?”

“Granted.”

Then the shooting starts. To your left, a tree explodes and its bark shatters. You can hear bullets screaming through the air around you. Someone’s shrieking in fear, and you can’t rule yourself out as its source. You risk looking back and immediately regret it, because until that moment you hadn’t been able to feel the big white bear’s hot breath on your neck. It’s less than a foot behind you.

“Jade,” you wheeze, “run faster! Leave me behind.”

She looks at you, shocked. Jade runs track at your school - you know she could leave you in the dust if she wanted to. “No! I’m not--”

“Just do it!”

“NO!” she yells, and plants a hand in the middle of your back to shove you forward with her. It’s stupid. There’s no point in you both dying! But it’s too late to argue, because suddenly the alien bear is on you, claws ripping easily through your shirt and digging burning lines into your shoulders. You think you feel your bones creaking under its paws as you go down, breathless, spread out on your stomach as Jade stumbles off to the side and the Lusus crushes you beneath it. It roars, and Jade screams your name.

You’re going to die.

You struggle, for just a moment, but the bear’s maw is at your throat, teeth grazing your skin-- and then it’s gone. The heavy weight from your back, lifted. You lie there frozen until Jade throws herself at you and drags you to your feet. Only then do you realise what happened. Another alien, a black-armoured Carapacian, tackled it off your back. The Lusus hangs limply from one of its sword-like arms, impaled against a tree. Some sort of yellow liquid drips down the Carapacian’s arm. You guess Lusii bleed yellow. Branches snap behind you-- more pursuers! Another Carapacian, this time one of the ivory-white ones. Your vision is blurry as you stare at it, wide-eyed. Only now do you realise you lost your glasses at some point. The black Carapacian drops the Lusus and eyes the white one, but before it can move, the white one goes down. On its back, another Lusus! This one seems vaguely cat-shaped, but massive, and there’s something wrong with its face. No matter how hard you try to focus, it remains a blur, and you can’t figure out why the white and grey mass looks so off to you.

<This one’s mine,> you hear, and you and Jade jump. That didn’t sound like Kankri, or Caliborn, or the Condesce. It sounded like Rose! The cat Lusus leans in and closes its maw over the Carapacian's neck, before jerking its head suddenly. You hear a sickening _snap_ , and the Carapacian stops moving. 

<You don’t need to call dibs if you’re already on its fucking back, Rose,> comes a reply. Dave?

“Wh- what?” whispers Jade.

<Are you two okay?> says the Dave-voice in your head.

“Dave?” you ask.

<Yeah, hey.>

“What, the fuck?” Jade asks.

<We need to keep moving,> says Rose. <Dave and I have taken down most of the Controllers following us, but they may send more.>

“What?” you whisper. “Where… where are you guys?”

<Right here,> says Dave. The Carapacian waves with the arm that isn’t dripping yellow.

<I’m the Lusus,> says Rose. It… she, sits back on the corpse of the other Carapacian and watches you. <I wasn’t joking. We need to go. Now.>

<Hey, by the way John, found your glasses.> The black Carapacian-- Dave, waves them at you. You watch the six-foot mass of shiny black spikes approach and hand over your glasses. You put them on, fingers numb, and realise that Rose’s Lusus has four eyes.

That’s about the last thing you can remember before you faint.  
  


You wake up to the feeling of cold water being thrown into your face. You flail wildly upright and almost fall off the… what the fuck are you sitting on? Looking down, you run hands over the blurry edges of what must be a bench in Jade’s backyard barn. Her grandpa runs a rehoming clinic for exotic animals, but over the years Jade and her grandpa’s girlfriend, Miss Claire, have turned it into the best animal hospital your town has. They don’t do normal pets like cats or dogs though, mainly animals who have been found wounded on roads or in the woods. Sometimes they even get in wolves or bears. They don’t turn anything away, no matter how big or dangerous.

“He’s awake!”

“Welcome back to the land of the living, John.”

“Good nap dude?”

You wipe water from your eyes and blink at the fuzzy shapes of your friends. Dave pushes your glasses into your hand, and if you’d been paying attention you might have noticed the way his fingers tremble. As it is, you barely notice that your shoulders and arm have been bandaged up.

You put your glasses on gratefully and ask, “What happened?”

“You tapped out man,” says Dave. “Really fuckin’ hit the snooze button and caught some shuteye in the middle of the woods. Jade had to carry you back.”

The woods? Before you can say anything, Rose asks, “What’s the last thing you can remember?”

“Uh…” You try to think. “We were walking through the construction site…”

“And then?” Jade asks.

“And then…” There’s a weird blank in your memory. “I must have passed out. I don’t remember anything else.”

“And did you happen to have any interesting dreams while you were out?” Rose probes, watching you carefully, something like smugness tugging at her mouth.

“Yeah, actually,” you say. “Wow, I had a really vivid dream about aliens.” Jeez, your imagination is so weird. Those aliens looked nothing like real aliens probably would.

“Really,” she says. Her smile widens.

Dave makes a face at her. “Seriously, [REDACTED]?”

“Just how vivid might you say this dream of yours was, John?” she continues, and you think there must be some joke you’re not in on because her expression only seems to get more and more restrained, like she’s fighting off laughter and barely winning.

“Uh… oh man, you’re not trying to psychoanalyse my dreams, are you Rose? I thought you only did that to Dave.”

“I indulge in dream analysis with people other than Dave when occasion calls,” she says, and carefully crosses her legs before leaning forward and steepling her fingers together under her chin.

“Jesus,” breathes Dave, but Rose ignores him.

“As funny as this seems to be to you,” says Jade with a grimace, “this is serious! Really serious. So… take it seriously, guys!”

“Hey, I’m takin’ this as serious as a heart attack,” Dave says. His voice is oddly shaky. “Nothing funny about cardiac arrest. Oh shit, what’s this pain in my arm? The ache of sincerity? The agony of solemnity? Someone call an ambulance, I’m feeling a mad attack of the dours coming on. Gotta bust out the fucking defibrillator--”

“Quit it!” Jade yells. Now, Jade isn’t a quiet person. Her voice is loud and deep and strong, like the tug of a bow over a cello’s C-string. When she laughs in the barn, you can feel the noise reverberate in the wooden walls. When she sneezes? Oh, man. But, thing is, Jade doesn’t get angry often. So her yelling in actual anger? It’s really fucking serious. It’s almost grounds for a public holiday. Like, oh fuck, Jade’s mad, everyone go home and hide under the covers and think about whatever it is you did to push one of the nicest people you’ve ever met over the edge. When she yells, everyone stops and listens. You sort of have to. If Jade [REDACTED] yells at you, you stay yelled at.

The fist she slams on the table beside her is sort of unnecessary, really.

Dave jumps, the movement like a full-body flinch, and even Rose jolts in surprise. Your legs do a weird twitching jump off the ground and you stare at them for a moment, taken aback by your body’s reaction.

Jade doesn’t give you time to dwell on it. “John! That wasn’t a dream. The aliens are real. The Signless died. There are Cherubs invading our planet. Dave and Rose morphed into other aliens and saved us. They had to borrow my clothes because you can’t morph with them on! See??”

You blink, and realise that Dave and Rose are wearing clothes that obviously didn’t come from their own wardrobes. Rose is in a… dress? Wait, no, it’s one of Jade’s shirts. The hem falls mid-thigh on Rose, and she’s wrapped a belt around her waist. Dave is swimming in a singlet, under a pair of overalls with the legs rolled up but still trailing on the ground around his feet. Neither of them have shoes on.

“The overalls are a good look for you, Dave,” you say.

“Oh dude I know. I had a piece of hay before but Jade wouldn’t let me chew on it like the backwoods hillbilly I am. Some real _Tucker and Dale vs Evil_ shit. Gimme a minute and I’ll dust off the ol’ banjo--”

“Dave!” Jade growls. Dave tenses up for a moment, before self-consciously relaxing and slumping against a wooden beam.

“Do you get it now, John?” Jade asks. “Are we all on the same page, here?? Because this is really important and we need to figure out what the hell we’re doing!!”

“What I’m doing?” says Dave. “I’m going home is what I’m doing. Bro expected me back like ten minutes ago.”

“What?!” Jade yelps.

“I have to agree with Dave,” Rose says. “My phone is likely a smear of twisted metal and shattered glass in the mangled corpse of my purse under whatever is left of Kankri’s ship. If my mother doesn’t hear from me soon she may call the police again. Unless she’s too inebriated to work a phone, in which case Roxy will. Attention from the authorities is hardly what we need right now.”

“WHAT?!” Jade barks.

“I think they’re right, Jade,” you say, getting up from the bench and wincing. “We should go home.” You retrieve your phone from your sylladex and-- wait, what? What the fuck is a sylladex? You retrieve your phone from your _pocket_ , and groan. Two missed calls from your dad, three messages from Jane. Yeah, you need to get back.

“You’re… you’re freaking kidding me, right?” Jade says, but you’re already walking towards the big barn doors, and Dave and Rose seem to be doing the same. “John! You-- you don’t even believe me, do you!” she continues, stomping around you and standing between you and the doors.

“Believe what?” you ask, confused.

She gets right up in your face, her glasses nearly clacking against yours. “That the aliens are real! That all of that really just happened to us! You still think it’s a dream, don’t you?!”

“Uh,” you say, “I mean, I think it’s a great prank, Jade. It’s pretty funny! But...” You snicker. “You have to remember that I am the pranking master in this group, it is me. No more stealing my thunder, ok?”

She throws her hands up and makes a disgusted noise. “You’re so... so thick, and stubborn, John! You always do this! You’re the thickest and-- and most stubborn person I know!!”

“Wow, thanks,” you drawl. “That is really nice of you to say!” You lean in and pretend to whisper to her, “I’m being sarcastic!! That was sort of rude, Jade!”

“Oh my fucking god,” she says, giving up. She turns to Rose, who stops and stands by the door. “How long did you say it would take him to start accepting this??” she asks.

“I didn’t,” says Rose. “It’s up to John. Perhaps a good night’s sleep would accelerate the process. Certainly it would help us all to recover fully from tonight’s escapades. Though,” she says, placing a hand on the doorframe and winking at Jade over her shoulder, “I’m sure a little performance wouldn’t go astray in persuading his subconscious to accept reality as it is. Goodnight, Jade.” With that confusing conversation done, Rose slips lightly out of the barn and disappears into the night. Dave waves a goodbye at you and follows her.

You make a bemused expression at Jade and she sighs. “I’m not apologising. You’re an idiot. But,” she says, smiling weakly at you, “you’re also my friend and I love you. So go home! I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah, okay Jade,” you say, returning her smile. You start to leave, but then stop and turn around. “Hey, don’t you mean you’ll see me tomorrow? Not tonight?”

She laughs, but her expression is all wrong. She laughs like a wolf would laugh at a little girl in a red hood. Like a _really annoying_ little girl in a red hood. “Yeah, of course. Now fuck off, John!”  
  


And that’s how, a few hours later, you wake up to the sight of a massive white dog sitting on your chest.

Your first instinct is to scream. This instinct is shut down immediately by a huge, hand-sized paw coming down on your mouth. Then you relax as you recognise the fluffy bastard.

“Bec?” you murmur around a faceful of white fur. Bec, short for Becquerel, is Jade’s dog. He’s also the biggest dog you’ve ever seen. You’re sure if Jade were to saddle him up, Dave or Rose could ride him like a pony. He might even be able to carry your weight, or Jade’s. Which is why you’re sort of glad that most of his weight is set on his back legs, which are digging into the mattress on either side of your feet.

<Kind of,> someone says. You jump, shoving Bec’s paw off your face and searching the shadows of your room.

“Jade?” you ask, because the voice sounded like hers. But it was weird, off, like you weren’t quite hearing it with your ears… but you’re probably just tired. You had more weird dreams about grey-skinned, red-horned aliens since getting home from Jade’s. You still don’t know why you passed out earlier. Maybe you’ve got some kind of condition. Can teenagers develop narcolepsy?

<Again, kind of,> the voice comes again.

“Where are you?” you ask, trying to sit up under Bec’s bulk. He moves back, settling onto his haunches, and keeps watching you.

<Oh my god, John. Seriously?> That’s definitely Jade. But why is she hiding? You squint, fumbling for your glasses on your bedside table and flicking on the lamp. You look back to Bec just in time for him to start growling.

“Whoa,” you say, holding your hands up, “easy boy.”

<I’m not a boy!> The growling stops. <Sorry, these instincts are hard to get under control.>

“I know you’re not a boy,” you say to Jade. On impulse, you swing yourself over the side of the bed and check under it, upside-down.

<Holy shit, you’ve got to be kidding me. John! I’m the dog! I’m Bec!>

“Ha ha, very funny,” you say. “Didn’t I tell you to leave the pranking to me?”

<This isn’t a fucking-- oh, my god. Ok, Rose was right. I’ll show you. Watch this. But uh, don’t scream, alright? Screaming would be bad.>

You have no idea what to say to that. So you just sit back and watch the dog, eyeing him skeptically. Then something starts to happen. It’s sort of like that time-lapse photography on the Discovery Channel, of a flower blooming or a field growing, except backwards. The white fur on Bec’s legs and body start to sink upwards and inwards, like noodles being slurped up through a straw. The fur on Bec’s head starts to get darker and lengthen, while his muzzle collapses back into his face. His front legs begin to change shape. The sound of cracking, like branches snapping, fills the air, and you have to swallow back bile when you realise that it’s the sound of bones breaking and reshaping. Joints twist and snap, bending backwards and shifting position. Bec’s paws change as you watch, the toes moving around and lengthening, forming human hands and fingers. His front legs, now arms, are dark brown. You watch the face lose its final canine shapes, mouth changing to form soft human lips, the teeth behind shortening and flattening to make incisors and molars and all those other teeth shapes you didn’t bother memorising in biology. You stare into the face of your friend Jade as she sits on your bed and stares back. The very last things to go are the giant white ears, moving down the sides of her head and disappearing beneath her hair. Her glasses unceremoniously appear from thin air, sliding down her nose before she pushes them back up with a recently-formed finger.

“So, do you get it now?” she asks.

You stare. “Yeah, I guess.”

She sighs, the motion a full-body one. “Thank god! And Rose said it’d be hard…” she mutters.

“Yeah,” you say, all the pieces falling in place. “You’re a werewolf.”

She goes still. Inhales suddenly, deeply. Holds it. “Ohmygod…” she whispers. “I’m gonna fucking lose it.” She inhales again, face in her hands, elbows leaning on her knees. She turns back to look at you, palms now resting against each other and fingers under her nose like she’s praying way too close to her own face.

“It’s ok, Jade,” you say. “I won’t tell anyone! I’ll keep your secret. What are friends for?”

Jade stares at you, her lips one hard, bloodless line. “John.”

“But it’s not even a full moon,” you continue, staring out your window. “Oh, do you play by like, _Underworld_ Lycan rules?”

“John,” Jade repeats.

“And you’re wearing clothes! I mean, I’m glad, but that’s sort of weird for a werewolf.”

“ _John_.”

“Yeah?” you ask, looking back to her.

“I’m gonna punch you in the face if you don’t stop talking.”

“Ok.”

She takes another deep breath, before relaxing. “Ok, first thing,” she says, “I’m not a werewolf.”

“But--”

“Nope!” she interrupts. “Remember the punch, John. I will hit you. Right in the face.”

You nod, completely silent. Jade doesn’t pull her punches. You know that from experience.

“Tell me what you remember. From before, at the construction site.”

“Oh, you mean my dream?”

Jade looks like she’s about to explode, but she stops herself and swallows hard, closing her eyes for a second. “No, John. I don’t mean your dream. None of that was a dream. It all really happened. Kankri’s ship crashing. Caliborn and the Condescension, and the Trolls and Lusii and Carapacians. The Cherubs invading Earth. Kankri… dying,” she whispers that last part. “And Kankri giving us that ‘gift’. The ability to morph. That’s what I just did, John. I touched Bec, got his DNA, and then turned into him. Just like Rose and Dave did to those aliens back at the site, when they saved us. That was how they got away before Kankri’s ship exploded-- they morphed into bugs that were already on the ground where they were hiding. They crawled away, morphed out of their bug forms, acquired the DNA of that cat Lusus and the Carapacian, and followed us. That was why Kankri said they were okay, he walked them through it.” She stops and looks at you, watching your expression carefully. “Do you get that now? None of it was a dream. It’s real. All of it.”

You blink. Look at her hands, hands that were paws just minutes ago. Blink again. “Ok,” you say.

There’s a long, drawn-out silence. Then, “Ok?!”

**Author's Note:**

> ok!!! so, at this time, i probably won't be writing more for this? i already have another fic i rly should be upd8ting rn lmfao but this took precedence bc i'm sorta hyperfixating on animorphs atm oops


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